When Malcoda started speaking the odd language, Ziv lifted her head up enough just to look at him, curiously. But she recognized a few words, and then she recalled what he was speaking. English. One of the two human languages she knew. He told her she could fly. The thought of that, that she could soar again... But why was he helping her? Why would he want to keep her from dying?
"I don't understand," she said softly, replying in the language he had delivered the message in. "You take help from the humans... and you live in human dwelling... but..." Her eyebrows furrowed, her expression twisting in confusion as much as a hound's face can. "You were the great Malcoda." That statement in itself said it all. He was great, he once had been. Humans had been pawns to him, amusing play things that could easily be disposed of. And now he was living in their world, intergrated amongst them. What had happened to him?